After a while they went back the other way, and followed the tracks into the hills. The walkway plunged through deep snow and soared over ravines. The prints themselves twice went directly up to sheer walls and stopped. "They continue higher up," said Richard.

"Anti-gravity?"

"Not supposed to be possible. But how else would you explain any of this?"

Hutch shrugged.

They entered the ravine from which the ice and stone for the figure had been taken. A block had been sliced cleanly out of one wall, leaving a cut three times the visitor's height. The prints passed the place, continued upslope, and petered out on thick ice. They reappeared a little farther atop a ridge.

The ground dropped sharply away on both sides. It was a long way down.

Richard strode along the ramp, submerged in his thoughts, not speaking, gazing neither right nor left. Hutch tried to caution him that the energy field provided fair traction at best, that the light gravity was treacherous. "You could sail off without much effort. You'd fall kind of slow, but when you hit bottom, there would be a very big splash." He grunted, and went a little easier, but not enough to satisfy her.

They continued along the crest of the ridge until the tracks stopped. It was a narrow place. But with a rousing view of Saturn, and the breathless falling-off of the worldlet's short horizon.

Judging from the confusion of tracks, the creature might have been there for a time. And then of course she had doubled back.

Richard gazed down at the prints.

The night was full of stars.

"She came up here before she cut the ice," said Hutch.

"Very good. But why did she come here at all?"

Hutch looked out across the plain, luminous in Saturn's pale light. It curved away from her, giddily.